


Forever

by Spindlefibres



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stockholm Syndrome, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spindlefibres/pseuds/Spindlefibres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madeleine is my best friend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

Madeleine is my best friend.

These words have been true since before I can remember. My parents used to joke that my first word had been ‘Madeleine’, followed by the more standard ‘mum’ and ‘dad’.

I love the sound it makes, ‘Mad- uh – line’, harsh sounds tempered by proximity.

We were inseperable as children, neighbours and best friends. Kindergarten was when things started to change. 

“You should call me Maddy, and I’ll call you Tess. It sounds better!”

“Nuh uh, I like my name better! Tuh-rayz-uh is a special name, daddy told me so!”

Madeleine eventually gave up on convincing me to call her ‘Maddy’, but kept calling for ‘Tess’, which I started answering to, to my irritation. A few days passed. 

“Shush, not so loud, she’ll hear you” This came from Madeleine, who was addressing a group of snickering children.

She came up to me, informed me that there was a nasty rumour going around that I was a snake, because ‘Tess’ finished on a hiss. But she had promised not to tell, and they said that they’d say that she’d been the one to start the rumour if she told, and I wouldn’t believe them, would I?

Of course not! Madeleine was my best friend! And when the whispers started trickling into my ears, I ignored them. Madeleine was the only one I could trust. No one else could call me by that name now.

And so we stayed, Madeleine and I. She was the more outgoing one, but I was only comfortable with her.

Madeleine and I were an island. Safe, but alone.

Until the very last year of high school, that is. 

The local high school had been partially burned down a few days before exams were to start, and the community was in uproar. I didn’t particularly care, but Madeleine was cheerful about our suddenly changed prospects. What the arson did result in was an immediate transfer for students until the school could be rebuilt.

The new school was bigger, and my classmates were very curious about the transfer students. For the first time, Madeleine and I were split into different classes. I kept to myself, at first.

“Your handwriting is so pretty, especially how you sign your name.”

The girl in the seat behind me was even prettier than Madeleine. She even had a pretty voice. If you looked up ‘adorable’ in the dictionary, you’d almost certainly come up with a recommendation to search ‘Vashali Gurunpathi’. It was tempting to think that she wasn’t talking to me, but my name was always a point of vanity, and so we started talking.

Vashali and I went out with her friends to see a movie. I don’t remember what it was, I was too busy marvelling at the fact that people other the Madeleine could be my friends. And they thought I was really funny and smart, only my family thought that!

I didn’t see much of Madeleine until graduation day.

After the ceremonial balloon release (which was a disaster as the weather had suddenly gone sour), Madeleine came up to me. We talked for a while, and she seemed pretty happy with her new group of friends. 

I was walking home from the graduation ceremony with my tacky party hat, when I heard a rustling in the bushes behind me.  
It’s the last thing I remember.

 

 

drip

drip

drip

I can feel my forehead sending out small rushes of blood, trying to heal itself.

drip

drip

The bench I’m on is uncomfortable, but I’m tightly strapped to it.

drip

It smells like iron.

I’m blindfolded.

I’m scared.

drip

There’s a creaking sound as someone steps on a floorboard nearby. My ears strain so hard to hear more that it’s almost painful, but all I can hear is my own panicked pants.

drip

I need to calm down, calm, calm, calm, calm. deep breaths, in, out, in out, in out in out in out in out in out inout inoutinoutinoutinout

“Stop that.”  
Whose voice is that? It seems familiar, and I turn my head towards its origin.

“Tess. Who’s your best friend?”

Should I respond? I’m still struggling to place the voice.

Before I say anything, a small crackling sound comes from the same place as the voice did, and my body jolts as all muscles spasm.

 

The next time I wake up, I know better than to stay silent. But who’s my captor? Obviously, they’re deranged. But I don’t know anyone who would do this sort of thing. Kidnapping? Some sort of electric shock for ‘wrong’ answers? Mystery location, which contains a large and lumpy bench with points for strap attachment? This seems like it took a lot of effort, to be honest. Anyway, how has no one noticed I’m missing yet? My mind is overwhelmed by all these questions; I’m starting to panic again.

“Hey Tess.”

When did she come in? 

“Who’s your best friend?”

It’s a girl, that much was clear yesterday. But she’s using some kind of voice changer; no human has that sort of tinny quality. Who? I have to say something, but what’s her name? 

Could it be one of Vashali’s friends, jealous about how much time she’s spending with me instead? Quick, say it!

“Va…shali?” It comes out hoarse. How long have I been here?

There’s a sharp intake of breath from my captor. Was I right?

“Wrong answer, Tess.”

That’s not good.

 

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I finally gave the right answer, the truth. 

She was so happy that she took off the blindfold. Not the straps, she said, because then I might leave, and that would be bad.

She’s even prettier than I remembered.

I told her that.

She smiled at me and said my name.

I love the way she says my name, “Tess”. It sounds so pretty. 

Like she’s kissing the air.

She’s my best friend.

 

 

She hasn’t come back for a while.

The shed is so lonely without her.

I’m sad that she’s not here.

 

Where is she?

 

 

It’s hard to stay awake now.

But what’s the point, when she’s gone?

 

 

I’m woken by the sound of the door opening.

Maybe she just went to get some food for me, like she said she would?

Someone’s coming in.

 

But it’s not her.

I go back to sleep.

 

 

“Theresa? Theresa, can you hear me, sweetheart?”

This isn’t the shed.

The voice isn’t hers.

Did I do something wrong? 

Is this my punishment?

I want to see her; I’m scared without her with me.

Does she want me to say the words?

She hasn’t for a while because she says that it’s just the truth.

But sometimes the truth needs to be said, doesn’t it?

I’ll say them, and then she’ll come back and take me home.

 

“Maddy…is my best friend…forever.”

 

Someone is crying.


End file.
